Keep Going
by murderedbutterflies
Summary: Blair is filled with so much sorrow; how will she be able to get through it? C/B future fic


Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or Chuck Bass, sadly.

Keep Going

She tried not to remember a thing about where she was or who she was or how she got there. Maybe it was because she wanted to forget so badly she made herself believe it hadn't happened. Slowly she lifted her eyelids and two dazed eyes emerged. She was lying on an extremely stiff mattress with layers of musty blankets piled on her.

She looked and saw nothing; nothing but a turquoise colored wall encircling her. It seemed as though the wall was trying to enclose her. Trap her. Gobble her up and whirl her around so she just kept spinning and spinning forever. The wall seemed as if it were the ocean desperately trying to seize her. She shut her eyes; as if ordering the wall to stop. It didn't. She escaped only by slowly drifting back to sleep.

She had hoped after she awoke from her deep slumber her trouble would have passed. Maybe everything could go back to normal. She knew in the back of her mind that it wouldn't happen. She thought briefly about getting up. Fear deep inside her told her not to. If she could just stay there, buried beneath her covers she could block the world out.

Absently, she thought of her cousin's gerbil, Fred, curled up in a ball. Fredwas allowed to hide from everything. He had no disappointments or concerns. He had no troubles in his life. Hewasn't forced to decide on anything more consequential than whether he should sip from the water positioned at the exact level of his mouth or lie there. Fredcould always crawl under the dusty wood shavings that lined his cage. It was a hard thing to admit, but she had gotten to the point where she was jealous of a gerbil.

She heard her phone ringing from the kitchen just outside her threatening walls. When she needed to talk to somebody the phone rang twice and then they hung up. When she desperately wanted people to just leave her alone it seemed as if the phone rang for hours. Thankfully, the answering machine picked up.

"Blair are you there? Pick up the phone! Fine, you're not there. Call me back when you get this. We really need to talk."

It was Chuck on the phone, the one person she wished it wouldn't be. She knew what he had to say and it wasn't the things she wanted to hear.

As she thought back she forced herself to remember. She thought about the day, about a month ago, when her mother had the fateful trip to the doctor.

"The test results seem to have shown cancer." When she had listened to what he said her heart had frozen. It still hadn't thawed.

She remembered thinking: _My mom cannot have cancer. My mom is a fashion designer. My mom holds charities. She judges me constantly, but I know cares. She… This couldn't happen._

Blair couldn't bear the thought of hospitals. She didn't have a nice past with them. Who really did? She recalled when she was hospitalized due to dehydration. She didn't want to think about how she got to that point; it was one of her darkest sins. Her mother had raced her to the hospital with a worried look on her face. Blair also vaguely remembered when her grandfather had died at the hospital. She wished her mother wouldn't be next.

Her last trip to see her mother was not a good one. She thought about her mother's pale face at the hospital, the sad look in her Chuck's eyes, and her running away.

Blair liked to run. When she ran it seemed as if nothing could touch her. The only thoughts she had were to keep going. Keep pushing a bit further. It didn't matter where she went as long as her legs kept flowing forward; perfectly synchronized. She had run all the way from the hospital trusting them more than her brain. They had guided her straight home leaving her to misery. She thought: _I've got to do something. _

She knew where she had to go. She knew what she needed to do. Halfheartedly she looked for some clothes. They were all dirty. In a very un-Blair like manner, she pulled some out of the laundry Dorota was planning on doing, put them on, and ran out the door.

Blair ended up at the hospital. She ventured toward the door. She opened it. A gust of an over air-conditioned breeze hit her. _It's freezing in here._ _You'd die of the cold in this place._ Then she realized most people would die here anyway.

She went to the waiting room; needing to sit down. She looked at a three-year old magazine about heart procedures. The disturbing pictures of sick insides made her want to throw up even more than she already did. She looked around nervously, not seeing a familiar face.

Blair walked into her mother's room. A handsome man sat in the corner. He looked disheveled and distraught. He wore pastel suspenders and purple pants. He also happened to be her husband. He gazed up at her.

"I'm so glad you came, Blair."

She looked at her mother. _Oh. My. Lord._ Her mother had grown dramatically weaker. Blair scurried over to touch her mother's hand. It felt limp. Her mother whispered to her:

"Keep on going for me, darling, keep on going."

Eleanor's eyes closed. Her hand drifted off of Blair's._ No._ She was gone. A tear trickled down Blair's cheek. It landed on her mother's arm. She momentarily forgot Chuck was in the room. He walked over to her, looked at his wife and knew. He cried too.

With Chuck and his limo, Blair rode to her mother's apartment. No wait, no one's apartment. Possibly it was her's now? She let out a deep sigh, perhaps trying to be rid of all the deep pain, distress, and sorrow. She drifted to the door of the building. She shoved her delicate hands under the stack of newspapers. When she glanced at them she noted that they were addressed to a Eleanor Waldorf. She observed the days that should have rained and didn't and the days it was predicted to be clear and it poured.

This was not what Blair had wanted. She wanted the doctors to be wrong. They weren't. She'd been left once again. Her father left with Roman and now her mother left with cancer. She hardly had a family anymore No, maybe she did. What about Chuck? He counted for something. He would look out for her. Wouldn't he? She had him. She needed him. He could take care of her. Couldn't he? He laid a strong hand on her shoulder and she knew. She was safe. She had a family. Blair would miss the one's she had lost, but then again, what was it her mother had told her? Oh yes… _keep going._


End file.
